only human
by magirl0413
Summary: Watson messes up a particularly trying case and Holmes has had enough. Watson leaves and Holmes gets an unexpected visit and realizes what Watson means to him and has to convince him to come back but Watson must make a choice, take his life or remain with Holmes. what will he choose? Suicidal thoughts


**This all happens after the Empty house**

It had been a particularly trying case for Watson, considering how badly he had managed to botch it up. They were tailing the murder and hiding behind some crates in an ally-way when Watson had stepped on the tail of a cat. Of course the cat howled and alerted the man they were trying to hide from.

He turned and pulled a gun, firing many shots, one actually managing to hit Holmes. It had been lucky for them that Inspector Lestrade had snuck up behind the murderer and hit him over the head with the butt of his gun.

The Inspector turned triumphantly to Holmes as his men made the arrest, "What's the matter Holmes losing your touch," He said mockingly.

Holmes whipped around to stare coldly at Watson. The poor, exhausted man, took the blame completely. He sighed, "Holmes I-," but Holmes had stalked away, clutching his bleeding arm.

In the cab Holmes had refused to speak or even look at Watson, so Watson simply sat in the cold silence and stared out the other window, occasionally flicking his eyes towards the detective ignoring his existence.

When they arrived at Baker street Holmes did not even wait for the cab to stop, he simply jumped out and stormed into Baker street, leaving Watson to pay the fare. Watson dreaded speaking to the furious detective but felt he had to speak with him, to apologize if nothing else. Slowly he made his way up to the sitting room. He entered to a familiar scene of Holmes in his arm chair smoking his pipe, but the cold in the room was so palpable, Watson was sure he could cut it with a knife. He stood in the doorway for a moment, fidgeting with his gloves trying to think of something to say.

"Yes Doctor," Holmes said coldly, making Watson flinch.

"Holmes I simply wished to-," but Holmes was suddenly in his face, "Wished to what?! Ruin my life?! My work?! I didn't return from the dead to have you ruin everything, so you can just leave! God, your like a lost puppy. Pathetic, you just can't live without someone there to hold your hand can you _Doctor,_" He said with disdain. The Doctor had frozen at his words and said nothing so Holmes continued, "You follow me everywhere like a Damned shadow but you don't go away! Your so annoying with your constant pestering and annoyance! Considering your skill as a doctor it's no wonder Mary died," Watson made a strangled noise. Holmes turned to him and instantly realized his grave mistake. Oh God what had he said? Watson's eyes where beyond huge and they spilled tears. His mouth was wide open in shock and his face was as white as snow. Before Holmes could even begin to apologize Watson about faced and strode out of 221B.

Holmes made to go after him but something stopped him. He was growing dizzy and fell back on the couch where everything around him went promptly black.

When I awoke I found myself sitting upright in a long wooden bench. Blinking the dim light out of my eyes I looked around. I was in a rather large empty room that came to a dome at the top. I noticed that there were many other wooden benches all around me in rows, but there was no one else around. I sat back and felt strangely at peace in the empty room.

"Quiet isn't it," a voice said from behind. I turned in surprise; it was a young man of no later than twenty-five with blond brown hair and strikingly blue eyes. There was kindness and sympathy in those eyes that I had never seen before.

"Who….Where are we," I asked, feeling he would know the answer.

He gazed around fondly, "This is my house."

"Your house," I asked almost skeptically.

"Yes Mr. Holmes, my son built it for me," he added.

"How do you know my name," I said in surprise.

"I know everyone's name," He continued to stare forward, "Shall we talk about Dr. Watson?"

At this name my memories of all the cruel things I had said sank in and my heart dropped in shame.

"It is all right Mr. Holmes, that case had been rather trying for both you and Dr. Watson, it was only natural that you should be angry," I felt somewhat better that the man understood me but felt odd that he did understand, "However," he turned to me, "That does not excuse your actions." He said like a parent scolding a child.

"I…." but I felt I could say nothing that would redeem myself.

"Mr. Holmes What would you do for Dr. Watson," the man asked suddenly.

"I would die for him," I said immediately.

"I see and do you know what he would do for you?"

This question was certainly harder. I shook my head; he sighed and looked sadly at me, "He would also die for you Holmes. Actually he is contemplating that right now," The man said in a compassionate tone.

These words shook my core, "What?! What do you mean," I asked rising from my seat while he remained seated.

"Dr. John H. Watson is contemplating a very serious mistake. Right now he is at the bridge wondering how it would affect your life if he jumped," the man looked away, "Would you like to hear his wonderings?"

Without warning Watson's voice filled the room, "_Should I jump? Would he care if I did so? With all that he has said to me I don't dare to hope so. Mary, my poor Mary, I want to join you,"_ Watson's voice stopped.

"Don't," I cried out.

"If you truly care for this man, than swallow your pride and tell him or you will lose him forever," the man was suddenly on his feet next to me, he clasped my shoulder, "Go, I will be watching."

My eyes flew open and I was lying on my couch in Baker Street. With a startled cry I leaped up and ran downstairs. I had to get to the bridge. I hailed a cab and told him I would give him half a crown if he cut the time in half. He smiled and nodded and we sped away.

The ride seemed to take hours but when we finally arrived I jumped out of the cab, paid my half crown and ran to the bridge. In the distance I could make out a solitary form of a man standing on the rail.

"WATSON!" I cried out as I came closer.

He turned to me with such eyes of despair that I almost stopped in my tracks.

"Oh Holmes, you're here," he said as if it hardly mattered.

"Watson why don't you come down from there," I said as if speaking to a wounded animal. I crept closer ever so slowly but he stuck one foot of the edge and I froze.

"Come any closer and I jump," he said and I knew he was drunk. "Do you have any idea what you've put me through! All this hell on Earth! First you die because I'm a failure as a friend and then my wife dies because of my failure as a husband and doctor," he shouted at me.

"No Watson, never, you have never failed me or Mary," I said softly, drawing closer.

"But you- you said," he said brokenly.

"What I said was cruel and untrue and I am truly very sorry for it old boy," I knew this meager apology was defiantly not enough for my words.

Watson looked out at the water in the night and sighed, "I'm so sick of life though, all this hardship and pain, is it even worth it," he said softly.

To say that his words shocked me was an understatement, "Watson," I said firmly, he turned towards me, "It is always worth it, if not for yourself than for me. I need you Watson, I'm lost without my Boswell," and with that I leaped forward and wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him away from the edge. We both landed in a heap on the bridge. My heart shattered when I realized Watson was crying. "Oh Watson," I said stroking his hair as he sobbed into my chest, "I'm so so sorry," and I knew that this meager apology would never be enough for the pain that I had caused him all those years but as he sat sobbing into my chest all I could hope was that it was a start.

"Watson," he said ever so softly.

I shifted my newspaper to look at him over the top.

"There is something that must be said and I know that after the events of last night you might wish to consider finding another place of residence but please hear me out," he said rather pleadingly. I folded my newspaper and waited for him to continue. He took a deep breath and started, "I know… I know that I can be, at times most annoying or aggravating and I know that some of my actions can cause great….. turmoil but….. I have never had another person like you. I have never had a person accept my antics or my deductions or my harsh criticism. I have never had anyone else accept me as I am and you are the only person that has done it old boy and I want to thank you. Thank you for running around London with me, for putting up with my black moods, for accepting me in a way that no one else has and I know that words cannot express how very and truly sorry I am for having said those things. Knowing that it was my words that brought you to that point," he took a shaky breath, "I beg your forgiveness my friend and I completely understand If you do not give it and decide to find lodgings elsewhere."

I could not help but laugh at his struggle, not a normal sight for Sherlock Holmes. He looked at me with a bewildered expression, "MY dear Holmes if I had wanted to find other lodgings I would have done so long ago, you are my friend and you shall forever be as such, including all your quarks. After all you are only human." I said and we lapsed into a comfortable silence. He lit his pipe and I mine and we smoked together, simply enjoying the company of a friend.


End file.
